Grand Hotel Page #9

She re-enters -- carrying a glass of water. She crosses,

places the glass down beside the bed -- her movements are

quick and furtive -- then she crosses, picks up the telephone --

asks for the theatre.

GRUSINSKAYA:

The Western Theatre --

She leaves receiver down -- crosses quickly to mirror --

stands there and brushes back her hair -- crosses back to

telephone speaks:

GRUSINSKAYA:

Western Theatre?

She glances up at the clock.

GRUSINSKAYA:

The stage -- Mr. Pimonov -- the ballet

master... Grusinskaya -- hurry --

hurry.

Again she puts the receiver down -- picking up a pencil she

commences hastily to scribble a note. She writes frantically.

Her other hand goes up and picks up the receiver.

GRUSINSKAYA:

Yes -- yes, I'm waiting.

She finishes the note -- commences suddenly to speak into

the telephone --

GRUSINSKAYA:

Hello, Pimenov? -- I'm at the hotel.

I couldn't go on -- I couldn't...

No, no don't --

(long pause)

...Just alone... Good night, good

night, my dear -- goodbye... Pimenov,

how is it going, badly?... Uh?...

Who's dancing?... Desprez?... Oh --

and how is it?... Oh, -- oh, I see --

they didn't miss me?... They didn't

miss me.

(she lets her hand

drop with the receiver

and goes on talking

into the air)

They didn't miss me -- good night,

Pimenov...

She is about to replace the receiver. She sits with it in

her hand, unreplaced.

The music has stopped. The room is strangely silent. Behind

her the Baron peers from the closet.

Her head sinks down upon her hands.

A funny, singing noise comes from the telephone. She lifts

the receiver to her ear. In a very strange voice, the voice

of Opehlia, she speaks:

GRUSINSKAYA:

(with great humility)

Oh -- I'm sorry, yes... I have

finished.

(she replaces the

receiver)

The foregoing scene is much better played than described. It

is in fact, ballet.

Quite calmly, Grusinskaya finishes the notes on the table.

She folds it up and places it in a prominent place on the

table, or hangs it over the telephone.

She crosses to the window pulls back the curtains -- the

Baron has been hiding behind a few minutes before.

We see the Baron watching. He glances at the door quickly.

"No, there is not time." She is returning calmly. She crosses

to the dressing table and takes the veronal out of a drawer.

She looks at it thoughtfully, her lips are trembling a little.

She moves to the radiator as if to seek warmth.

She sinks into a chair and her head droops over her folded

hands which contain the veronal, she seems to pray.

The Baron comes from the closet -- now is his chance, he

looks at the door but can't make it. Looks on the floor for

the key which Grusinskaya has previously thrown there, his

eyes fall upon the note on the telephone -- he reads it.

It is a death farewell note to Suzette -- do not insert it.

At this moment she has finished, the Baron returns to his

hiding place. She makes the sign of a cross and goes to her

bed.

She looks around nervously, apprehensively -- like a deer

who has heard something, then reassured. She places the

veronal on the night table beside the glass of water. She is

quiet and deliberate. She arranges the pillows under her

head and lies down. She reaches for the bottle of veronal

and empties it generously in her hand. She has to lean away

upon one elbow, from the Baron's position, in order to balance

herself.

The Baron steps like a cat from his hiding place. He goes to

the bedside noiselessly and stands there.

She reaches for the glass-her hand stretches out for the

glass. The Baron takes her wrist suddenly.

She turns quickly looking at him. The glass falls to the

floor with a crash and breaks. As she moves, the veronal

falls out of her hands upon the bed. She struggles up to a

sitting position.

BARON:

Please, do not be alarmed, Madam.

She glances up at him. She is bewildered. She seems to be

coming out of a trance. Again she wants to jump from the

bed.

BARON:

Careful -- there's broken glass on

the floor.

Now she becomes conscious of almost nakedness. She draws her

kimono tightly around her, glances across the wide expanse

of bed. We see her consider passing over that way, but she

is now a woman again -- a woman of the earth -- it would be

a silly movement.

BARON:

There.

(takes a pillow from

the bed throws it

upon the floor over

the glass, steps

back)

She gets up quickly and crosses, putting on her robe which

was lying across the back of a chair.

Her first movement is not one of alarm but of -- shame. She

draws her robe more closely around her and looks at the Baron

puzzled. She thinks, dreamily, "What is this?" She glances

back at the veronal and the bed showing us plainly that this

man must have watched her preparation for bed. We get a sense

of relief with her. She is trembling.

The Baron has controlled his nerves perfectly. He senses his

danger. He is caught red-handed with five hundred thousand

marks worth of pearls in his pocket. He is wondering if she

will ring the bell. For an instant he thinks of escape. He

could dash for the balcony. He could strike her dead or

silence her with threats. There is in the room an intoxicating

sense of romance and danger. (It should be in the scene.)

BARON:

Please do not be frightened, Madam.

GRUSINSKAYA:

(after a silence)

What do you want here?

BARON:

Nothing -- only to be here.

GRUSINSKAYA:

Why do you hide in my room?

BARON:

But surely you must know -- because

I love you.

GRUSINSKAYA:

Because you love me -- you love me?

She looks at him for a few moments and then suddenly she

throws herself upon the bed and begins to weep more and more

passionately.

BARON:

(going over to her)

Poor little Grusinskaya! Does it do

you good to cry? Are you afraid?

Shall I go?

GRUSINSKAYA:

I was so alone -- always alone --

and suddenly you were there and said

that.

(sitting up)

No. I am not afraid. It is strange.

BARON:

Don't cry -- it tears my heart to

see you sob like that.

GRUSINSKAYA:

(regaining control)

Nerves -- just nerves. You must

forgive me. I have had a bad evening.

I am very tired. Do you know what it

is to be tired -- tired of a routine

existence?

BARON:

I'm afraid not -- I usually do just

what I feel like doing at the moment.

A look in his eyes reminds her of the strangeness of the

situation. She rises with returning dignity and pulls her

robe around her -- she is becoming the Grusinskaya of Imperial

Russia; she is the woman Grand Dukes have fought for. She

sweeps across the room.

GRUSINSKAYA:

So you feel like coming into a lady's

room -- and you come... What now?

BARON:

(following her)

I'd like to smoke a cigarette.

GRUSINSKAYA:

Certainly.

She gets her cigarette box from the writing table and holds

it out to him. He takes a cigarette and lights it. She watches

him curiously. She smiles, as she watches him greedily inhale

the smoke. She crosses and sits before her looking glass.

She brushes her hair back and powders her face. She looks

into the mirror, we feel that she has regained a desire to

live. He crosses and looks at her in the mirror. He smiles.

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